Stumpy
There was a tree where I grew up
That I spent many happy hours on.
The swinging tire, the branches high
Ever filled my happiness cup.
The tree grew, as did I, to an older age,
It got too big to keep.
Who could have realized such beauty to be dangerous?
The house was threatened, as was the garage.
I had to have the tree cut down,
Its wood turned into pieces.
And each time I burn one of them
I think back, then my smile turns to a frown.
I could't cut it all the way to the ground,
So I left a mighty stump.
Every so often I will go and sit on it
And just take in the view aroud.
Now I have come to love that stump
Which supported my happiness all those years.
And though it's not the entire tree,
It is still a good sized bump.
I play hide-and-seek around it with my son
When we get in the mood.
He's learned to look for me around that stump
As a hiding place, it's my favorite one.
I'll never cut the stump all the way
I just couldn't do that to my tree.
For I love that stump just as I loved the tree in its glory
And I love it more each passing day.
Even in my advanced age and being so grumpy
I thought of giving the stump a name.
Then, watching "Rio Bravo" one night it came to me,
I would just call it "Stumpy".
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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